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Tuesday, June 12, 2012

I needed to go feed
Addalee and go to bed like an hour ago.
I need the sleep, and she needs the milk. But I can’t bring myself to go upstairs into
the dark quiet of bedtime. I’m not
afraid of the dark, per se, I’m afraid
of what my mind does in those empty moments before sleep blurs my
thoughts. I’m afraid to relive. I’m afraid to regret. I’m afraid to think of how badly I miss
her. I’m afraid to strain to remember
her face, her smell. I’m afraid to panic
when I think I’ve forgotten a single detail.
I’m afraid.

Life has been a
little heavy lately. My heart has been
filled with such joy and sadness, it’s so completely sad, and yet blissful at
the same moment. Caroline has been so
present on my mind. Each day, she’s in
the forefront. I’m constantly thinking
of that darling girl. How could this really be our story? How could she really be real? But she is real. She was a perfect and beautiful baby girl; a baby
girl that I would still give my very life to have.

I don’t want to
wallow. That’s not helpful in any shape,
form, or fashion. But I’m just so
freaking sad. I can’t lie about it. I can’t pretend that it isn’t killing me
right now. Because it’s weighing me
down. I don’t want to cry. I don’t want this. I just don’t.

I’m just about to
force myself up those dark stairs. I’ve
almost worked up enough nerve. And like
a scared child, I will run to the safety of my bed (after I feed my little happy
girl), and hide under the covers, and pray for all I’m worth until I fall
asleep. And tomorrow, the sun will come
up, and the weight will seem more manageable.
But tonight…tonight, I’m afraid of the dark.

Sunday, June 10, 2012

Her eyes were blue. Caroline’s eyes were the same color as her
little sister’s eyes. I just learned this
TODAY. I know that sounds weird, but it’s
the truth. I didn’t look at her eyes in
those 4 hours I spent holding her. It’s
something that I have kicked myself for since the day of her funeral. I didn’t look at her eyes. I could only use my imagination to visualize
her eyes.

I was talking to my
mother-in-law and mentioned that I hated that I missed my chance to see my
sweet girl’s eyes. I cried as I told her
that I didn’t know if her eyes were blue like her Daddy’s (and now her sister’s),
or if they were brown, like mine. She
simply said, “They were blue.” I told
her that I had always visualized them being blue, in my dreams, in my thoughts,
they’re blue. I thought she was just
guessing as Arthur and I have been in these almost 2 year without her. But she went on to tell me that she did look
at them. Wow. I have one more tiny piece of the puzzle of
my girl that I didn’t get to keep.

It might seem like
a small detail (to those who haven’t walked this path). But when you only have precious few hours to
capture a lifetime of memories, every.single.thing. matters. I didn’t do things exactly as I wish I
had. I missed things that I will always
wonder about, but I did the best I knew how to do given the circumstances. But today, I can tell you, her eyes were
blue.

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

An update on my
grandmother: She has been moved to a
rehab hospital so they can work intensively on her recovery. She came through the surgery well, and though
we still don’t have back the official pathology report, the doctors have said
that they do not believe it to be cancer.
So thankful for this! I’m also
thankful to each of you who thought of us and prayed for her! Please continue to do so as she still has a
long way to go!